


Pale Fallen Angels

by Steph1roth, ZenOfSeven



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Graphic Violence, Murder, Near Death, Rape, Strong Language, Suicide (attempted)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph1roth/pseuds/Steph1roth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenOfSeven/pseuds/ZenOfSeven
Summary: An original work written during a very dark period of my life.  Be warned there is a lot going on here. There is mental/physical abuse, rape, murder, violence, suicide and strong language. You gave been warned.  THIS IS DARK.Parts of this were written with the help of a friend of mine.  I apologize for not adding him before.





	Pale Fallen Angels

She drowned her pain in alcohol, how long had it been since she drank last...since returning to heaven. come home they said, you will become there, all would be forgiven they said bullshit! she thought, nothing has changed, it was a mistake going back there she still felt the whole in her heart, it was almost as bad as the pain in her head. Alcohol dulled the pain, at least for a little while.

She sat staring daggers at the beer in front of her as if it had offended her, she couldn't get the vision of heaven burning out of her head. Along with the vision of those angels...Michael, Raphael, Gabriel all of them eviscerated and hung by their own intestines and the Titans tearing down the Great Chapel. Downing what was her fourth beer or was it her fifth, hell she didn't know nor did she care. She paid her bill and wandered out of the bar. She found the cheapest motel in town and rented a room for the night.

The bed smelled like old sex and blood, the room was moldy and the paint chipped and peeling off the walls. She threw her jacket on to a nearby chair and set down the brown paper bag with yet more booze it in on the side table and fell backwards on the bed. Her green hair falling over the side of the small bed and her legs on the floor, she stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours and probably was before finally passing out.

She rolled over and moaned, she hated hangovers...but not as much as she hated being sober. She sat up and reached for the bottle of liquor, she took a long drink and her headache subsided. She took a few more drinks before setting the bottle down and continuing to stare at the ceiling. She laid there in a numb state, where her head was buzzed and she couldn't feel the pain, neither from her head or the hollowness that had invaded her heart. 

She was in the bar again, third night in a row. Staring at her beer as if it offended her, silently hating God, hating heaven, hating angels, and hating the hole in her heart even more. Then there was that scratching at the back of the patch, metal on metal, it made her face twitch. She hated that thing in her head, she wished it was gone it made her head hurt. She took another swallow of her beer, it was bitter and disgusting but she drank it anyway out of pure spite. 

Once she finished her third of fourth she stumbled out of the bar, it was late...or was it early? She didn't know, like it mattered here the days and nights were so fucking long they blurred into an endless cycle of light and dark. She didn't even remember how she got here, she could feel the holiness radiating from it, it made her want to vomit. Finding a dumpster, she retched out her last meal along with that gut rotgut beer, she felt instantly better. She spits the rest of the vomit out of her mouth, washing out the taste with more liquor. Wiping her mouth, she continued down the road in search of her hotel. 

She could feel it scraping, always scraping the inside of the metal plate...she grabbed her face, it was driving her mad that thing in her head. Now she was drunk and pissed off, not at any one thing but everything all at once. She leaned against a wall as she waited for the light to turn green, the hole in her heart threatened to swallow her hole...she hated her life and everything in it. 

So, it wasn't surprising that she really didn't care when someone...well a pair of someone's shoved her into an alley way and pinned her against the wall with a knife at her jugular. She wished they had the balls to slit her throat. They were demanding her wallet, pushing her hands away roughly they riffled through her clothing and took her wallet. She could see the wicked gleam in their eyes, no one would care, no one would see. She laughed, she though this entire situation was incredibly funny, no one them asked her what she thought was so funny. She didn't answer right away he back handed her across the face, she tasted blood, been a while since she tasted blood. 

One them held her against the wall while the other tore at her clothing, not that she really cared what they did to her. _Brutalize me, rape me_ she thought _nobody cares_. One of them turned her around and pinned her against the wall and brick wall biting into her flesh, she started to laugh again. 

"Rape," a voice says out of nowhere. "How crude. Do you do it for the taste of power you get?" 

She heard the voice, she felt them stop and look around. One of them bashed her head into the wall, it was hard enough to disorient her for a few moments and she feel hard to her knees. She was vaguely aware of them looking around and talking at something. She felt the cement bite into her knees, she leaned against the wall her arm propping her up. She felt blood dripping down her face, she hated blood dripping down her face...she couldn't stand it. 

She spied a piece of a broken bottle, grasping the neck she didn't care that the sharp edge sliced into her hand. It made her hand slick with blood so she gripped the bottle harder. She turned and looked up at the one who been fucking her, a murderous gleam found its way to her eyes. He looked down at her and punched her in the jaw, he said something, but she wasn't listening. Lunging up she stabbed his in the side of the neck right under his jaw severing his carotid artery, his warm blood poured over her hand and sprayed into the wall. She let go of the glass, she watched mercilessly as he futilely tried to stem the flow of blood...her eyes wide with the pleasure of watching him die.

He let the body drop as soon as he'd drained the life out of it. Rape was unmanly and disgusting... he was not going to let this one get away alive. Arranging the corpse on the ground, he turned and looked down at Jeri, seeming relatively detached but open. "I would ask if you were okay," he says. "But that would be stupid. There's plenty of evidence here stating otherwise."

She raised her gaze to meet his, she vaguely recognized him but couldn't place him...she was so young then...so stupid... She leaned against the wall and adjusted her torn clothing and belted her ripped up jeans. She used her sleeve to wipe the blood from her face. 

She started to laugh, "I'm just fine..." she laughed some more, "just fine..." her laughter was self depreciating and loathsome. 

She steps over the bodies, still laughing to herself. She sounded crazed, she knew but it was all so funny. People stared at her as she walked by but said nothing others just ignored her completely. She walked past a police officer, nothing, not even a glance...she laughed again, _so this is what the world is reduced to?_ she thought, _let it burn in its own filth_ she thought laughing again. 

She finally got to her shitty run-down motel, they didn't even charge her rent...they didn't care...the building was near condemned, rat and roach infested and smelled like stale sex and death; a place hooker frequented. She leaned against her door as she unlocked the door.  She hadn't bothered locking the door, she didn't care. At least the water was hot, scalding really, she watched the blood run down into the drain. The water stung the open wound on her head, she'd sewn the one on her hand closed, it too stung.

She walked out of the shower, scars riddled her once flawless skin. She was missing the last three fingers on her left hand, she picked up the glove that fitted three prosthetic fingers to her hand. They were hard to manipulate, but she could at least function...she despised her life. 

* * *

 

_She flopped down in the dirty bed falling into a fitful sleep where she dreamt of golden gates and paradise, she was eating pomegranates. The food turned to ash in her mouth and she felt the heat of the flames as she watched in horror as Heaven burned around her and the gate torn asunder. She turned and in horror it was a baby's head in her hand. She felt the burning grasp of his hand on her face, he was painfully beautiful and completely evil, rotten to the core. His smile was so disarming, she sagged in his grip, he leaned in and had locked eyes with her. He whispered something to her..."You are mine"_

* * *

She woke with stifled scream, she was covered in a cold sweat and she could still feel his touch on her skin. God her head hurt that thin in her head pounding, it was worse than a hangover. Reaching over she nearly knocked the bottle of booze over, twisting off the cap she guzzled several shots worth before taking a breath...she hated dreams

She couldn't sleep, not now...she got dressed and went out again. There was a bar open, she took a seat at the bar wasting her money on booze in a cheap strip joint. She sat back and watched the girls dance, this club was open if patrons had money. She half watched the girls, she wasn't terribly interested in them but helped her forget about the pain in her head. 

Speaking of that thing, it scratched at her patch again. Her face twitched...suddenly the girl was asking her if she was okay, apparently, she was bleeding. Swearing under her breath she said she was fine and went into the bathroom the clean up her face.

 _Thank God!_ she thought, _it had finally stopped bleeding_ as she cleaned out the sink. Why she was cleaning it out she didn't know, she just was. She still felt it there scratching, when she looked up she froze. 

In the mirror she saw him again, her breath was caught in her throat. She could actually feel that heat from his skin behind her, she didn't want to turn around. He reached up and wrapped his slender fingers around her jaw, rubbing one side with his thumb. He smirked at her, it made her blood run cold as much as it turned her on. He leaned forward, she felt his breath next to her ear as he spoke quietly into her ear. 

"Fancy seeing you in here, my little Dove." 

He used to call her that in Heaven... _My little Dove_...she felt tears sting her eyes, it had been so long since she heard any kind of term of affection used towards her. She blinked and he was gone as quickly as he appeared... _Was he even here?_ she wondered. She felt that hole grow bigger, she sank deeper in it...she needed another drink. 

Returning to the dance floor and she ordered a strong drink when he took her seat again. She was paying more attention to the dancers now. To keep her mind off him...  Finally, the strip joint closed and she was told to go home...right home...she walked back towards her shit hole. She hated him as much as she couldn't resist him...she didn't even love him, but she was none-the-less caught in his spell. His face burned into her memory as long with his touch...his embrace....

She felt the thing in her head pounding at her head, hissing she grabbed the side of her face. She tried to visualize Luc...she tried so hard, but everyday had blurred his image in her mind until there was nothing but a blur of light that once his face. She damned him for erasing him...damned him.

She eventually made it back to her shit hole lair, she didn't remember how but she got there somehow. She was nearly struck dumb by the pain, she fumbled with the keys dropping then more than once before getting the door open...she didn't bother locking it... _fuck it_ she thought her head hurt too bad to think or care. Tripping over every god damned thing in there she finally made it to her bed, crawling over her bed she fumbled with the bottle of scotch...drinking herself into oblivion once again...trying to hold onto the blurred memory...but it too faded.

He sat there in one of the chairs so kindly provided by those who owned this lovely establishment. Musty, filthy, rotting and falling apart... Just the kind of thing you'd expect to see in a low-end hotel where people came to die.

Oh, how he loved her in his own small way. He smiled. It wasn't vicious, but it wasn't kind either. He loved to tease and torment her. It was always part of the game they played.  He didn't blame her for hating those in Heaven. Not even hating those in hell. Ha. None of them knew what she needed, or wanted. None of them seemed to care. Just him.

That's how he liked it to be. 

Him. Only him. If she only knew he'd escaped. No entity alive could control where he went. Next to God, he was the most powerful being in the universe. Shaelmani could assume his throne if he wanted to for now. He could take it back any time he chose... if he wanted to. His primary concern was the woman in a drunken sleep coma before him. She was a filthy mess. 

She groaned her head felt like it was going to split open...the thing in her head was pounding and scratching at the back of patch again... 

She didn't notice him, she couldn't notice anything beyond the blinding pain of her hangover. She reached for her mostly drank bottle of scotch. She'd guzzled the rest of the it before even sitting up, wiping her mouth she started to sit up still holding her head. She snarled at the thing in her head...she wanted to rip the patch off. But then it would bleed and she hated blood on her face...warm wet and sticky she hated it. She could still smell blood on her from last night at the club. She pulled her jacket off and threw it across the room, then pulled her shirt off...yes, she still hadn't noticed him, her back covered in scars where he was ripped her wings from her...he made sure they wouldn't grow back. She was rummaging for a mostly clean shirt to change into too. 

He watched impassively as she stripped half of her clothes off, eyes wandering delicately over each and every scar she bore. None of them were from him. No one had the right to do that. 

Nor did they have the right to remove her wings. He cocked his head to the side as he thought about how he would remove parts of Shaelmani when he could be bothered enough to destroy him. Make sure they would never grow back. Put _him_ in a weak mortal body and put a spell on him so that he couldn't remember anything.

But such a thing from him was more than he deserved.

Coming back out from the circle of thoughts, he refocused his eyes on his prey, his girl, his everything, and nothing a second time. With another small smile, he wondered how long it would take before she noticed him.

He wondered whether or not he should just disappear like every time before that. Prolong it. Make her hate and love him more. Yes, he'd do just that. 

Something clicked in her head, pulling a shirt over her torso, it too had tears in it she looked over her shoulder. She was still drunk, she spied the man sitting in the corner. She wasn't surprised nor offended, she was only curious what brutality awaited her today. 

She swallowed trying to focus on the man, something...the thing in her head started clawing at her face, she felt blood seeping from under the metal patch screwed into her head...she hissed and swore. 

"Fuck." she winced in pain, it was nearly unbearable, though she tried hard to focus on the man...she knew him she thought, but it was so hard to concentrate through the pain and drunkenness. 

"Having issues, darling?" he asked with amusement. "If it were anyone else, they'd have pulled that horn out of their skull ages ago. But you. Nooo, not you. You're a stubborn one. I like that."

The last three words were whispered, smooth. Almost sultry. 

She recognized his voice...his name was so close. She'd known it the night before but now it escaped her...she almost wanted to cry it hurt so much...that hole kept expanding.

She heard His laughter, it resounded in her head and deafened the outside world. She covered her ears and curled up on the bed, she hated his voice as much as she couldn't resist it. _You are Mine._ resounded in her head, echoing so loud she thought it would deafen her for good. _You belong to me._  

Standing, he approached the bed and leaned down. His mouth was so close to her ear that she could feel his breath on her. "Perhaps you can wait a bit longer, doll. You've gone this long, haven't you? Maybe next time."

He was gone. 

She finally released the scream she'd been holding in and the laughter vanished, so did the man that was there. Her gaze searched the room, she remembered now...only after he was gone. She hated him for this, as much as she couldn't resist him. 

She could still smell his near her. In the pit of her stomach she felt so alone, abandoned and left on her own. She wasn't as angry as she just was tired. The hole threatened to swallow her and she was out of alcohol. She didn't want to go out tonight...stripping down she sat in the shower, pouring scalding water down on her until it ran cold.

She was out walking around, she didn't want why. Maybe it was just to get away from his scent left over in the room. She hated her green hair, that was something He did...it used to be white. She used to be unmarred, god she hated him. Perhaps that was why He came, why he came. He didn't care if it was a back alley or with people watching, at least this time it was in a secluded section of a park. She'd woken up naked and sore, not surprising his _love_ had brutalized her, she was used to that, she'd probably be bleeding for a week. Her clothing was still mostly intact, strewn about the ground randomly. She raised herself slowly to her knees, she was bruised and bleeding from half a dozen places, bite wounds, knife or claw slices she didn't remember which; none of which were deep but they hurt...she felt bruised to the bone. Slowly and stiffly she began to collect her clothing. Even after she'd put it on she sat there for a while to sore to move.

It was hours before she looked up, people were passing by...no one noticed her, no one cared. She sighed, it was a sorrowful and broken sound. She wanted to die...but He wouldn't let her. She gazed at her wrists, they bore the scars of many failed attempts at suicide, He always saved her, refusing to let her die. Then there was Luc...his cruelty was in his nature it showed that he cared even if it was a fucked-up way of showing it...if he didn't he'd ignore you. Still her mind craved a gentle touch, just once someone that didn't hit her, rape her or abuse her in some way. Someone in her fucked up life that gave a damn. 

She laughed bitterly to herself _Like that would ever happen._ She laughed again but it was half sob as much as a laugh, _People like me don't get knights in shining armor_ She felt the cold hole well up inside of her and against everything she had she couldn't stop from crying. They were tears of frustration, tears of rage, sorrow and pain.

Eventually hunger forced her from the ground and guided her steps to the shelter that was serving dinner that night. She'd no idea where her boots ended up, probably some beggar took off with them or he just threw them in a dumpster somewhere. 

She didn't talk to anyone in the shelter just got herself a hot meal, first one in days. She really didn't feel hunger anymore, she ate once every couple of days enough to keep her going. She was rail thin and was lean towards a scary weight. She ate two helpings at the shelter before leaving again. 

She felt the cement beneath her feet, it was still warm from the sun. She had another pair of shoes back in her shit hole, she sighed. Her mind was numb, she was walking on autopilot. She walked into a liquor store, he didn't notice she didn't have any shoes...didn't notice or didn't care one of the two. He sold her the two bottles of scotch and whiskey anyway. 

When she got back to her shit hole she tossed one bottle in a cabinet and opened the bottle of whiskey taking a long healthy draw from it...several actually. She sat in the filthy chair, his scent still lingered there, she took another drink. She heard gun shots outside, she took another drink. She heard someone scream, she took another drink...yup it was a normal night. 

Luc sat cross-legged on the bed just watching her. She still wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. _This is why you're so battered, my dear._ "Do you really intend to drink yourself to death?" he says suddenly. "Or let someone kill you? Dying means going to Shaelmani."

He knew she hated that name. It's why he said it. He smirked. She'd either learn to deal with it, or she could torture herself more over a such a trivial thing. "I never thought you were such a weakling. Get over it." 

She heard him, her movements where sluggish. The bottle was held loosely in her left hand. She knew this is how it would be, _get over it_ he says, she knew she should, but it all threatened to swallow her whole. She was weak and she knew it, her face twitched, she felt the thing in her head start to move. It scratched and thumped clawing its way into her eye socket, for once she didn't care. Blood seeped out from underneath it and trailed down her face, for once she didn't care. 

None of it mattered, she was weak and was nothing...she started to laugh. Just a broken angel stuck in a frail human body, brutalized by everything, she took another drink laughing more. She knew he was going to disappear again, he only came to snip at her. That's all they ever did, whether it was human or angel. 

"I don't see why it matters." she finally spoke, she started to laugh again, "He won't let me die, no matter how hard I try." Her wrists were covered in her failed attempts at suicide. "if it's not one place it's another." she took another drink. 

He was too disgusted to speak. Too disgusted to stay or leave.

Swallowing it down, he hisses, "If you're going to let that weakling of a... man... push you into becoming the same as them out there? If that's the case, then you deserve what he does to you." 

She was ignoring the blood trickling down her face; she felt the thing in her head wail, it was a sad sound. It shook her, she looked back up at him...she felt the tears again but refused to cry in front of him. 

"If I am so disgusting to you then why do you keep coming around here?" she asked her voice hard with both anger and alcohol, "Why don't you just leave me to whatever fate that I deserve and find someone else to shower what little affection you have left on." 

She was so angry, but at who she was angry at more she didn't know. The thing in her head wept and wailed, the blood seeping out from beneath her patch dripped from her chin onto her chest and was bleeding steadily now. Her breathing had become short and sharp, anger and rage mixed with the pure hopelessness and numbness she felt. She'd been like this for so long...

She looked at the bottle of whiskey, snarling she threw it against the wall. It shattered against it staining the portion a darker brown. Leaned forward from the throw she hiccupped in sobs, she hated what she had become. She hated every fiber of her being as much as she loved it. She knew he was right, she hated herself for crying in front of him but she couldn't hold it down any longer. She was so angry at him and herself, he'd taken her freedom and every ounce of her strength and left her with nothing a frail husk that he brutalized whenever she got a notion of freedom again. 

“...Fuck..." she said, she had finally noticed her face was bleeding, damn it she hated that. 

He was pleased with this turn of events. Not in a cruel way, no. Not this time. The fact that she was making a little bit of progress. Maybe she'd make something of herself after all.  He sat there watching with detachment as her blood mingled with her tears. He made no move to comfort her. 

It was too much to ask for comfort from someone like him, she hated crying it felt her feeling numb and hollow. She wanted to him to leave her alone as much she wanted him to stay. Finally, she ran out of tears, the blood stopped as well, she sat there silent and numb. She couldn't focus on anything it was all hazy and hollow. 

She knew he was still there but she didn't know what to say. She wanted to know why he was still here, staring at her, she could only imagine what he thought. She stared forward at the wall, watching the whiskey run down it. 

"What do you want?" she finally asked. 

"Does that really matter?" he asks, suddenly appearing with a warm washcloth. He was holding it out to her. 

She took it from him, "I guess not." her voice was hollow, she felt numb.

She pressed it her face cleaning the blood off her face and chest, her body hurt all over. She wanted to sleep but she didn't want to close her eyes, her dreams.... were nightmares of the worst kind. Human think they know what Hell is...oh no they have no idea what true Hell is.  So, she sat there in the filthy chair too afraid to sleep but utterly exhausted. She swallowed, she wanted him to stay she didn't want to be alone. 

"Thank you." she said finally setting the cloth down, she rolled her heard again so that she was facing him. "How long are you staying?" she asked though she feared the answer. 

"... A while. But not here, this place is filthy. Gather your things." 

She couldn't say no, although still drunk she swayed a bit when she stood. She didn't have much, she pulled her shoes on and her jacket. She leaned against the wall still. "This is what I own. I’m ready whenever." she replied. She followed him where ever he led her, she didn't have the mind to object. 

He didn't lead her to a ritzy place. Just one of those cozy places that weren't full of death. Directing her into the bed, he covered her with the blanket. "Sleep," he commanded. Urged. 

She tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes his face was there doing something terrible and they flew open again. Finally, she got out of the bed and walked into the bathroom, she turned the shower to scalding, she disrobed and sat in the shower. She felt the scalding water hit her back, the scars were tight and itched, the heat helped her relaxed sometimes helped her sleep. She couldn't remember the last time she's slept through the night. She sat there until the water ran cold. 

The hot water had done its job it made her sleepy and sluggish, she was too tired to dream. She collapsed on the bed rather than in the sheets, she barely had enough energy by then to pull the blanket partially over her. 

* * *

 

 _She actually slept, he tried to invade her dreams...but the thing in her head said no. He stood before her, an angel in white stood in front of her she carried a silver trumpet. He sneered at the angel in white, he said she was his. She told him to leave before she played her trumpet. He laughed her at trying to get past. She played single note, and that was enough to drive him from her mind._  
  


_"She doesn't belong to you anymore." the angel said._

* * *

 She slept soundly that night for the first time in ages. Near the root of her hair it was starting to turn white again. She woke the next morning and it took her some time to recall her surroundings, _oh yes, Luc. He brought me here_. Slipping from her bed she caught her reflection in the mirror set there, she was so thin, emaciated really. She turned away from it in disgust, throwing a sheet over it...she didn't want to see herself, everything about herself she hated. 

She eventually found something to wear, a pair of baggy sleep shorts and a tank top and walked down to the places kitchen. She hadn't said a word or even seen him today, if he'd left she wouldn't have been surprised and never would have admitted to being hurt by it. She wasn't proud she didn't want to be seen as weak, she laughed, she already was. She rummaged in the kitchen and found something suitable to eat and sat down on the sofa.

She had gone out to get some air, she was actually paying attention not walking in the road and was on the side walk. She was doing everything right, but it wasn't enough...black luck had befallen upon her since he had claimed her.

She was crossing the street at a crosswalk, her turn to go, she was half way across the road when a car ran the red light and hit her head on at 45 miles an hour. She should have been dead, she was only vaguely aware of being hit by the car, only vaguely aware of the ambulance, vaguely aware in the ER and now vaguely aware in her hospital room where she was drifting in and out of consciousness...

Luc observed the medical contraptions attached to Jeri. She did not need these things, or wouldn't if Shaelmani hadn't meddled. He mulled over the idea of helping her heal a bit, but that would be meddling also. Not that he didn't do it on a regular basis, but... hmm.

He reached out and touched her on her abdomen right where her diaphragm was, and gave her a drop of what she needed. She would pay for it. Nothing he ever did was free, but he was just a bastard like that. He sat back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face and waited for her to wake up.

She felt him touch her...she gasped when he gave her something...anything. It was within minutes she started waking up, becoming more aware of her surroundings. She hated hospitals, they smelled like death and illness...it made her laugh considering what she was. She couldn't think of much she didn't hate in the world, Luc was one of those things. It drove her mad sometimes because she knew that she should granted all the fucked shit he's done or not done to her. 

She was still groggy from the pain killers they had given her and was barely able to focus, but she forced herself to focus on him...his face made it easier to bare...everything. She felt her frail mortal body healing, agonizingly slow but healing. She'd live with a few more scars to add to her collection...she hated scars. 

"Good evening My Prince." she said, she was surprised that she remembered that much, he was her prince...she'd do anything for him.

 "No one has called me that for a very long time," he said, sitting forward again, and moving hair away from her face. "It's pleasing to hear it. I would ask if you are well, but considering the state you're in I'd say not."

 "I'll survive." she replied, she was overjoyed that he was pleased it made the hole smaller. 

She swallowed her mouth dry, she groaned with the pain starting to wear through the unconscious barrier that had been up. Her body hurt, she felt it dying and regenerating at the same time. She gripped the railing on the bed, human pain killers never lasted long with her...she just had to ride it out. 

The white in her roots was more noticeable now, the spell he had placed her was weakening as it usually did with near death. It was usually now he came to re-establish his hold over her. He kept her mortal so that she couldn't fight him, kept her weak to dominate her. 

She felt him coming at the edges of her conscious demanding she come to him. She couldn't deny it...she started to sit up gasping in the pain it caused her to move.

 "Say you're not his. Tell him," he encouraged. "Let him know you're mine."

 She cried out and fell back against the bed, it hurt too much to move and her body was just too weak. Growing impatient he dug his mental claws into her soul and tore at her. She was being punished she knew, but she couldn't obey she wasn't his. The longer she resisted the more violently he attacked her, soon deep lacerations were started to bleed again as she cried out again. 

The nurses ran in and didn't even notice Luc, they were trying to restrain her and in process hurting her more. Every time that touched her suffering intensified tenfold. Not once did she submit to him. Finally, he stopped as the nurses pumped her full of drugs again and got the bleeding under control, they had decided to have someone by the door to watch her tonight. 

He'd torn deep wounds into her soul for resisting him, she didn't regret it. But felt numb and worn, so tired but unable to sleep...human drugs did that to her. She was exhausted and her body was so sensitive to touch that even the blankets hurt.  As a reward for her stubbornness, he ran his hand down her face, healing her himself as he went.

He then moved to a far corner of the room and sat there, invisible to all. Even her.  
She had done well.


End file.
